


Days Like This

by hasa_diga_quicheowai



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: AIDS, Angst, Au where bees are extinct, Bee Movie References, Death, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Musical References, Poptarts is the real mvp, Slow Burn (I think), fluff too, hell dreams, i think that's all but it may change, it's the lesbians from next door, its kinda like hunger games but not intentionally, its pretty fuckin slow, its the scene with kev and the general, mayyybe smut, not chardelia different lesbians, save the fucking bees, tags will change, that's right it's not all about the white boys, they are all still mormons btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10850763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hasa_diga_quicheowai/pseuds/hasa_diga_quicheowai
Summary: AU where the bees are extinct and every two years, a number of people are randomly selected to die so that the earth can continue to sustain human life. The Elders of District Nine are chosen to be killed and sent to Uganda, where the people of a Ugandan village have also been picked. Both parties are sent to the arena, where they try to live the rest of their lives to the fullest.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this will hopefully not be too much like the hunger games but i'm sorry if it is
> 
> yes, title is from falsettos
> 
> but i'm gonna try and make this a proper fic so prepare yourselves

BEEP BEEP BEEP

BEEP BEEP

BEEP

Kevin Price rolled over in his bed, fumbling for his phone. Forcing his eyes open, he squinted at the bright lock screen, tapping to stop the alarm.

6:30 AM  
March 1

It took a few minutes for the meaning of this to click in Kevin's brain. So that was why his phone alarm went off so early on a weekend. Kevin dragged himself out of bed, quickly changing into a dress shirt and pants. It wasn't the most comfortable outfit he owned, but he'd only be wearing it for today. Kevin combed his hair back, fixed on his name tag, and headed downstairs.

He had barely stepped into the kitchen, when a shrill voice called Kevin's name. "Kevin!" He turned and grinned at his best friend, who had somehow managed to break into the house by himself.

"Hey Arnold," Kevin greeted the shorter man, grabbing them both some eggs and bacon. His hand hovered over one of the few packets of coffee that his mom had saved from before the bees had gone extinct. Although he had only had it once or twice, Kevin was in love with the drink. He could hardly believe that humans had been so careless as to kill off the pollinators of the addictive substance.

"So who do you think will be selected?" Arnold mumbled around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. "I know it's supposed to be an honor, but I don't want to have to sacrifice my life for-"

"Come on, I know it's intimidating, but we would helping our whole community!" Kevin reasoned. "Beyond that, even. Everyone across the planet earth would benefit!" He took a long drink of water, glancing at the other Mormon out of the corner of his eye.

Arnold nodded, wiping crumbs off of his shirt and taking a couple of deep breaths. "You're right, Kevin. What other city is participating this year?"

"I think it's a village from Uganda." Kevin tapped his fork against the table, scrunching his forehead in thought. "But most will come from here."

"Uganda? Cool!" Arnold said enthusiastically. "Where is that?"

"Africa."

"Like Lion King?" Arnold confirmed. "That's so far away! I thought it would be a little bit closer."

"The participants will be flown there this year," Kevin added, scrolling through the local news on his phone. "I'll bet the Africans will be upset about that, some of them were probably counting on coming here to America."

"Why? What's wrong with Africa?" Arnold asked, scooting his chair over next to Kevin's and craning his neck to catch a glimpse of the phone.

"Well, you know, third world countries don't have all the same resources as-" A loud ding dong, like a doorbell, echoed throughout the kitchen. Kevin jumped and switched off his phone. "Shoot, we have to go! Come on, you can eat that on the way!" He grabbed Arnold's arm and charged out the door.

"I can hear the crowd talking! We're in time!" Arnold panted, stuffing the last of the bacon into his mouth. "Let's just stand in the back."

"No, we need to be in the front! I want to see everything!" Kevin argued, shoving a path to the front of the crowd. Arnold followed, apologizing to the people Kevin had pushed and trying to keep up.

"Look, it's the Mission President!" Kevin whispered, bouncing on his heels and pointing up at the podium. "Shut up, he's about to make the speech!"

"I didn't-"

"Elders!" The Mission President's commanding voice silenced the chattering Mormons. "Thank you for coming today. As you know, ever since the bees went extinct, the planet has not been able to host as much human life as it could before. Therefore, to keep the population from rising, every two years, a number of people from two cities are chosen to participate in a tournament. Every participant eventually dies, but the families receive reimbursement. The longer the contestant survives, the more their family receives."

"Such a beautiful speech," Kevin sighed, clapping with the rest of the crowd. Arnold joined after a moment, following his friend's lead and letting out a loud cheer.

While the Mission President continued to explain the nuances of the tournament, Kevin glanced around the crowd. He practically had the entire monologue memorized after hearing it biannually for nineteen years, so he allowed himself to devote some attention to the rest of his surroundings. Something glaring brightly from the sun caught Kevin's eye in the crowd. He leaned towards it, catching a glimpse of something pink and sparkly, then-

"The time has come to choose the participants from our town. If your name is called, please come up to the stage. Elder Thomas! Elder Neeley! Elder Church!" Kevin listened tensely for his name, glancing at the contestants from the corner of his eye.

"Elder McKinley!" Kevin was temporarily blinded watching the redheaded elder walk onstage. Once his vision was restored, he realized that the sparkly pink something was the man's vest. The sun caught the individual sequins, creating a showy but tasteful effect. Kevin tried not to stare, but there was something about Elder McKinley that Kevin couldn't tear his eyes away from.

"Elder Price! Elder Cunningham!" The Mission President listed. Kevin blinked hard, moving his gaze to the center stage, where the Mission President waited expectantly.  
"That's us!" Arnold hissed. "We're in the tournament!" He grabbed Kevin's arm, stabilizing both of them. "L-let's go up together, okay?"

"Uh, sure." Kevin shook Arnold off, stood up tall, and walked up onto the stage. He inched carefully to his spot near the edge, standing close to Elder McKinley as not to fall off. Arnold dashed up to take his place directly in front of them.

The Mission President continued to list off names. Kevin stared at the back of Arnold's head, counting the number of names in his head and trying not to pay attention to Elder McKinley. They were definitely standing too close to each other. If he wanted, Kevin would be able to reach out and take Elder McKinley's-

"That's everyone!" The Mission President's booming voice broke Kevin's train of thought. He glanced down at his hand, which was a hair's width away from McKinley's. Blushing, he snatched it away and shoved it behind his back, forcing himself to focus on what the Mission President was saying.

"Tomorrow, your families will accompany you to the airport, where you will say your goodbyes before being sent off to Uganda. Remember, you are helping the whole human race."

Kevin smiled and waved out at the cheering crowd, ignoring the shuddering breath that Elder McKinley took. This was Kevin's mission, and gosh darn it, he was not going to let anything or anyone distract him. Not even a cute redhead with impeccable fashion taste.

This was his chance to do something incredible.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive in Uganda. Mcpricely interaction. Arnold is adorable as always I love him sm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late! Last week I was celebrating Mother's Day and totally forgot!

The trip to Uganda was extremely uncomfortable. The plane was crowded and the bus was late. Kevin wasn't sure what he was expecting, as he was being sent to his death. Still, a little comfort during his final days would have been nice. Instead, he was crammed in between Arnold and some blonde kid who offered him pop tarts.

The bus was even worse. There were too many people to fit onto one bus, so half of them took the first bus, including Arnold. Though he felt guilty about it, Kevin was glad that Arnold was on a different bus. They were best friends, but Kevin had to admit that Arnold could be a little bit much. Unfortunately, the second bus took a half hour to arrive. Kevin supposed it was divine punishment for being thankful to be away from his friend. After a very long, boring, and awkward half hour, the bus finally arrived and everyone shoved their way in. The blonde pop tart kid accidentally pushed Kevin to the floor. Before he could consider asking for help, pop tart kid was swept away by the crowd, leaving Kevin stranded and about to get trampled.

Kevin dragged himself to the back of the bus, the only place that wasn't flooding with elders. He collapsed onto a chair, releasing a sigh of relief.

"You okay?"

Kevin jumped, startled. In the chaos, he hadn't realized that there was one other person in the back. He tried to regulate his breathing and calm down.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I saw Elder Pop Tarts knock you over. He's much stronger than he seems." Kevin took in the appearance of the man sitting beside him for the first time.

_Oh. It's him._

"Yeah, I got out of the way pretty quickly. I'm not hurt, don't worry," Kevin assured the man beside him. "I'm Elder Price. Kevin Price." He added, offering his hand.

"Elder Connor McKinley." Connor responded, shaking Kevin's hand. "Hey, weren't you the one who stood next to me during the ceremony?"

Yes. "Maybe, I don't remember too well. It was kind of a blur, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that." Connor stared at the ground, fiddling with the gold buttons on his vest.

"So…Elder Pop Tarts?" Kevin asked. "He offered me some pop tarts on the plane, but I didn't realize it was a continuous thing."

"Pop Tarts is my best friend…andonlyfriend…it's what he's known for. His real name is Elder Thomas, but everyone calls him Elder Pop Tarts cuz he loves them so much," Connor explained, grinning.

"Alright, I get it now. Did you say that Pop Tarts is your only friend, though?"

"Well, yes." Connor muttered, eyes darting away from Kevin's face.

"Why? You seem nice and happy enough." Kevin pressed, obliviously missing the discomfort radiating from Connor.

"I'd really rather not say," Connor evaded the question.

"Well, why is Pop Tarts your friend when no one else will be?" Kevin smoothly rerouted his interrogations.

"He's nice and doesn't care what people think of him or me? Honestly, who knows," Connor mumbled. "Um, were any of your friends picked too?"

Kevin's eyes lit up as the subject switched to him. "My best friend Arnold Cunningham was chosen, but none of my other friends. Guess I'll just have to make new ones, right?" He chattered, waving animatedly with his hands and nearly punching Connor in the face.

Kevin talked all the way to the village, raving about the tournament, Arnold, and most of all, himself. Connor seemed happy to listen, directing the conversation away from himself whenever Kevin asked. As soon as they stepped out of the bus, Kevin was tackled by Arnold.

"Hey, best friend!" Arnold hugged Kevin. "Gosh, you're lucky you took the second bus. Some guys with guns came and stole all the luggage!"

"Really?" Kevin pulled away from the hug. "You're not just making it up?"

"I know I have a little problem, but I wouldn't lie about this!"

"I know, I'm sor-" Kevin started, but was cut off by Connor.

"Sorry to cut in, guys, but it's just… they took all the luggage? Like, every last bag?"

"Yeah, I think so. Why? And who are you?" Arnold sized up Connor.

"I'm Elder Connor McKinley. And, well, the luggage of all the elders was on the first bus."

"Wait, everyone? Including me? There's a lot of important stuff in my bags!" Kevin tore off to the first bus.

"I'm Elder Arnold Cunningham, nice to meet you." Arnold fist bumped Connor, then chased after Kevin. Connor followed, a little bit slower.

Kevin was digging through the bottom of the bus where the suitcases had been stored. "It's gone! My camera, my phone, my clothes, all gone!" He was near hyperventilating.

"Hey, deep breaths, buddy." Arnold patted Kevin's back, while Connor leaned down and looked into the compartment.

"You guys, I think mine is in there!" Connor reached in and pulled out a sparkling magenta suitcase. "Why wasn't it stolen too?"

"Oh, yeah. The men who stole the bags thought it was a lady's suitcase, but when they opened it and found men's stuff, they said it was gay and threw it back in," Arnold explained.

"They wouldn't take it because it seemed gay?" Kevin glanced up at Connor, moving slightly from where he had slumped against the bus. "That's not fair! Darn, I should've gotten a pink suitcase too!"

"I'm just glad that none of this was stolen. Some of these things were really expensive." Connor checked his bag, making sure everything was there. "But, even if this was, uh, gay, why wouldn't those thieves take it anyways? They could probably have made a lot of money selling this."

"Maybe they think being gay is contagious or a disease or something." Arnold shrugged. "You don't have anything in there that would fit me, do you? Because I don't want to have to wear this every day that I'm here."

"Yeah, no." Connor shook his head apologetically. "I have a vest that could fit Elder Price, and I guess the top hat fits everyone."

"Why do you have a top hat?" Kevin peered into Connor's bag. "And a baton? Tap shoes?"

"This is a fight to the death so we can save the bees, not So You Think You Can Dance," Arnold agreed.

"Well, I wanted to be prepared for anything?" Connor blushed, snapping the case shut. "Let's just be glad that the guys who stole the other luggage were too scared of 'catching the gay' to take mine."

"Are you actually gay?" Arnold asked, walking with Connor and Kevin back to the others.

"What? No!" Connor flushed and stared at the ground. "C-can't a guy just like pink and ballet without being gay?"

"Yeah, okay. But just so you know, if you were gay, that'd be okay. I mean, I'd like you anyways." Arnold looked to Kevin for support.

"Um, yeah! If it were me, I would feel free to say that I was gay," Kevin said, hastily adding, "But I'm not gay."

"Okay, okay, thanks, I get it!" Connor snapped. "I had gay thoughts like once, alright? I'm all better now, so everything is okay. You can stop."

Kevin shared a glance with Arnold. "Sorry to press, but, how do you 'get better'?"

Connor sighed. "Just, I don't know, turn it off? Don't feel those homosexual feelings! Are we done yet?"

"Yeah, of course. I'm sorry." The three arrived by the other elders, who immediately dragged Kevin into the crowd. Connor and Arnold stood awkwardly next to each other.

"Sorry about all the questions," Arnold apologized. "Kevin means well, and I just don't know when to stop."

"It's okay. It's been a long day, though. I'm going to go get settled." Connor walked over to Pop Tarts, grabbed his arms, and shoved him to the ramshackle little building. Arnold could feel his eyes drooping. It was his time to turn in as well. Pushing through the crowd to Kevin and walking them to the building, Arnold held back a yawn. Hopefully tomorrow would be a Latter Day.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some angst, some homophobia but not too much I think

After being selected for a death tournament, awkward conversation with the most popular Mormon, and once again being assumed to be gay, Connor McKinley was ready to escape into sleep. It had been a very long day and he didn't know how much more he could take.

Elder Pop Tarts had other ideas.

"Oh my gosh, Connor! Can you believe today? This is so crazy! It sucks that we're going to die, but at least we're going to die together, right? Too bad that Elder Price also will. He's like the smartest, most deserving elder the center has ever seen." Pop Tarts couldn't seem to stop gushing about the day's events as he got their room put together.

"He is pretty cool," Connor agreed, opening his suitcase. As offensive as it was to have his luggage considered too gay to steal, he had to admit he was glad it wasn't stolen.

"Didn't you talk to him earlier? When you were getting your bag?" Pop Tarts climbed into the top bunk, peering down at Connor like a judgmental cat.

"Uh, yeah, I did." Connor stared down at his sparkling red waistcoat.

"How'd it go? Is he as perfect as everyone says?" Pop Tarts was practically fangirling, which managed to elicit a small grin out of Connor.

"We barely talked, Pop Tarts!" Connor laughed. "I didn't get too much from the conversation."

"Well, what did you get from it? Come on, you can't leave me hanging like that!"

"Well, his best friend, Elder Cunningham, was also picked. He's super into the church." Connor shrugged. "That's all, I promise."

"But, weren't you arguing while you were walking back to the group?" Pop Tarts loosened his tie, still watching Connor.

"It wasn't anything to do with him, he and Elder Cunningham just assumed I was, um…"

"Gay?"

"Yeah." Connor unbuttoned his vest, not meeting his best friend's eyes.

"It's not a bad word or a bad thing, Connor. Gay is okay." Pop Tarts swung down from the bed to sit next to Connor.

"How can it be? Back home, I lost my other friends because of my thoughts about Steve. My religion says it's a sin. Even nonreligious people think it's wrong. My suitcase wasn't stolen because it was too-too gay! How can you just say that it's okay with everything telling you it's not?" Connor snapped his suitcase shut.

_Turn it off._

"Well, most evidence proves that a lot of things from Mormonism couldn't have happened. But we still believe in it anyways," Pop Tarts said, putting his hand over Connor's. "I can't decide anything for you, but just know that your real friends will be there for you no matter what."

Connor sighed. "Thank you, but can we just go to sleep now?"

"Of course." Pop Tarts yawned and climbed back into the top bunk. "It's been an exciting day, huh?"

"Exciting is one word for it." Connor turned off the light and got into bed. "Good night."

"Good night."

***

Connor felt the heat before anything else. It was always the heat. The fires, fueled by the souls of sinners, burned hotter than anything Connor had ever felt.

Connor knew that he had to open his eyes. The dreams lasted longer when he didn't. It would get worse if he kept them shut. But it took a strength Connor wasn't sure he had to go through this every single night.

"Open your eyes, Connor." The sweet, caring voice of Pop Tarts washed over Connor. "It's just me. Your best friend." The voice sharpened viciously. "Your _only_ friend."

"Connor, please." That was Steve Blade, the primary tormentor of Connor since he was ten. "You know you want to look at me." Steve laughed coldly. "You know you want to do a lot more than look."

"Elder McKinley!" Connor froze. He knew that voice, but he couldn't place it. He'd never heard it in his dreams before. "You can't just run from your problems, that'll make them even worse!"

Connor slowly cracked his eyes open, taking in the hellish scene around him. Steve, Pop Tarts, the other elders, and his parents surrounded him as usual. The pitchforks, the fire, the burning rainbow flags. Everything like it was every night.

Except for Kevin.

"What…what are you doing here?" Connor hated how weak his voice sounded, how broken this place had made him.

"The same reason as you, Elder McKinley," Kevin said, tilting his head and looking genuinely confused, as though Connor should have figured it out himself.

"Y-you're having gay thoughts?" Connor felt horrified, but a small part of him was elated. Then he felt horrified for feeling elated.

"That's right, Elder." Kevin cupped Connor's cheek and Connor melted into the gentle touch.

"Because of you." Kevin grabbed Connor's face with both hands. Connor's breath hitched as he stared into the other's eyes.

"Because you've corrupted me." The soft grip tightened, claw-like nails digging into Connor's skin. He yelped, trying to pry Kevin off of him. Steve, Connor's parents, and the other elders surrounded them, cackling and stabbing at Connor with pitchforks.

Connor managed to shove Kevin off, throwing him into a pillar of flame. Tears burned in the back of his eyes as he fought for breath. Connor brought his hand to his cheek where Kevin had scratched it. His hand came away bloody. Connor picked up one of the torn rainbow flags and pressed it against his face, soaking it with blood as he choked back sobs.

"Aw, look! Connor's going to cry!" Steve yanked Connor to his feet and pushed him hard into Pop Tarts.

"Go on and bitch and moan," Pop Tarts snapped, tearing the flag away from Connor's cheek and letting the blood flow freely.

"You don't deserve to dream." His parents, wielding flaming pitchforks, stood on either side of Steve, crowding around him.

"You're going to die alone!" Kevin passed through Connor's parents and friends to stand right in front of him. He leaned forward, placing his hands around Connor's waist. Connor was unable to hold back his tears, letting them pour down his face as he desperately grabbed Kevin's shoulders.

"Die alone, die alone, die alone, die alone!" The other elders chorused, glaring at Connor with disdain while he held onto Kevin.

"I'll do better! I'll turn it off!" Connor sobbed. "Please, Heavenly Father, give me another chance!"

Kevin shook his head, disappointed. "Don't you understand, Elder McKinley? _You had your chance._ "

***

"Connor! Connor!"

Connor sat up with a gasp, barely able to breathe through the tears. Pop Tarts was shaking him hard. Connor pulled his best friend into a tight hug, crying into his shoulder.

"Oh my gosh, Connor…" Pop Tarts murmured, squeezing back. "Was it that bad tonight?"

Connor nodded, trying to slow his breathing but only succeeding in crying harder.

"Are you okay?"

Connor didn't answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes that was heathers fite me
> 
> also pop tarts is the purest protec


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kev wakes up and finds that con is awake too. they talk.

Kevin awoke with a start to parrots cawing outside his and Arnold's window. His hand automatically flopped to the right, searching for his nightstand so he could switch off his alarm. 

"Gosh darn it, where is…?" He grumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Forcing them open, he surveyed his surroundings through tired eyes. This was definitely not his bedroom. To the left, Arnold was fast asleep in a bed uncomfortably close to Kevin's. The rest of the room was bare, save a sole picture of Jesus Christ hanging above the door. 

"Where am-" Kevin squeezed his eyes shut, memories rushing back. Being selected, horrible trip to Uganda, cute pink Mormon boy, luggage gone, sleep. He sighed, taking his watch out from under the bed where he had hidden it. It was 6:12. The day started promptly at 7:00. 

Kevin yawned and stretched, quickly putting on his clothes from the day before. It was no use trying to go back to sleep and it was almost time for the others to wake up, so why not get an early start? Kevin held up his tie, but shoved it in his pocket and left with the top buttons on his shirt open. There was no one he needed to impress this early in the morning. 

Kevin crept out to the rickety little porch, flinching at the creaks the boards made. Although he was careful where he put his feet, one floorboard cracked underneath his foot, resulting a loud snap followed by Kevin falling to the ground. 

"Who's there?" Kevin heard footsteps headed his way. Desperately, he tried to free his foot from where it was caught in the floor. It was no use. Seconds before the other person arrived, he stood up, covering the trapped foot with his leg and leaning against the wall in an attempt to preserve his dignity. 

Kevin was surprised to see that the unlucky Mormon that he had disturbed was none other than Elder Connor McKinley, looking slightly less fashionable than the day before in an oversized PINK sweater and sweatpants. 

"Hey, Elder McKinley." Kevin waved, feeling more embarrassed about his stuck foot than ever. Why did it have to be Connor to find him like this?

"Oh! Elder Price!" For a reason unknown to Kevin, Connor blushed and looked almost scared. "Hello."

"Are you okay?" Kevin ignored the hurt that he felt at Connor's nervousness and looked closer at his face. The other man looked exhausted, dark circles ringing his normally life-filled eyes. 

"Yeah! Of course, I'm fine, just a bad dream." Connor looked away, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. "Why are you up so early, Elder?"

"Parrots. I'm a very light sleeper."

"Mm, I heard them earlier. I didn't realize that they'd wake anyone up though." Connor sat down next to Kevin. "Sit down, I promise it's more comfortable than that weird position you're standing in."

Kevin's face flushed and he nodded, lowering himself to the ground, hoping that Connor wouldn't notice his trapped foot. 

"Whoa, what happened to the floor?" No such luck. 

"I guess I stepped on a weak board or something. My foot's stuck," he admitted, avoiding Connor's eyes. 

"Yikes. Come on, if we both try we can probably get it out." Connor pushed back the too-long sleeves on his sweater and inspected the cracked porch. 

"You're so lucky your stuff wasn't stolen," Kevin sighed. "It gets pretty cold at night, wearing another layer along with the temple garments must be nice."

"You should have seen Elder Pop Tarts." Connor rolled back his sleeves again. "He misses his luggage even more than you. He does get cold easily though, so I gave him a robe."

"Wow, how much did you fit into that suitcase?" Kevin was half impressed. 

"I have a skill. You'd be obsessed with all my packing expertise." Connor leaned back, a determined expression on his face. "Okay, on three, we both pull on your leg. Got it?"

"Got it."

They both counted. "One. Two. Three!" Kevin felt like his leg would be ripped right off. He tumbled backwards, only allowed a brief moment to properly breathe before Connor collapsed on top of him. 

"Sorry!" Connor struggled to push himself up. "At least your leg is free."

"Thanks for that," Kevin gasped, trying to catch his breath. "Elder McKinley, I can't breathe."

"I know, I'm sorry! There are a bunch of wood chips scattered and I can barely see what I'm doing. How about…" Connor stopped attempting to get up and rolled off of Kevin, landing softly next to him. "There."

Kevin drew in a deep and unrestricted breath. "Thank you." He turned his head to the right in order to look at Connor. "Well, we still have a half hour to kill. Any ideas?"

"Oh gosh, Elder Price. I'm not too good at coming up with things on the spot." Connor considered for a long few seconds. "How about Twenty Questions?"

"Alright. Do you want to start?"

"Oh, okay!" Connor deliberated for a moment. "Favorite color?"

"I haven't really thought about that in a long time, to be completely honest." Kevin laughed. "When I was a kid, it was blue, so I'll stick to that. You?"

"Take a guess." Connor smirked, pointing to the pastel pink of his sweater. "Okay, favorite place in the whole world?"

"Orlando, Florida." Kevin didn't even have to think about it. "Middle name?" 

Connor looked embarrassed, but answered with the truth. "Liza."

"Wait, isn't that a girls name? Why is that your middle name?" Kevin sat up a little. 

"My oldest sister got in a car accident a few weeks before I was born. This is my parents' way of remembering her." Connor sighed, dragging a wood chip across the ground. "I didn't know her, but I wish I could have. I'm proud to have her name."

"I'm sorry, Elder." Kevin rested his hand on Connor's arm. 

Connor turned his head back towards the sky. "Thank you."

"And for what it's worth, I think Connor Liza McKinley is a lovely name." Kevin let his hand flop back onto the ground. 

Connor shifted to face Kevin again. "Thanks, Elder Price," he said, sounding more sincere. "I mean it."

"No problem." 

"Well anyways, it's my turn, right?" Connor changed the subject with a superhuman boost of energy. "What was in your suitcase that was so important?"

"Only everything! My clothes, my headphones, my hair gel-"

"You brought hair gel? On a death mission to Uganda?" Connor interrupted, wheezing with laughter. 

"Like you're any better with your tap shoes." Kevin shot back, but he was also laughing. "In any case, now it's gone and my hair will be in utter disarray when I die."

Connor and Kevin fell into a comfortable banter, finishing Twenty Questions and just shooting the breeze. Quoting songs by their favorite bands or telling jokes no one would understand except them two, they just talked and took in the view. 

By the time it's seven o clock, Connor and Kevin are halfway through a discussion about what their future plans were before they got chosen. 

"Bike the Appalachian trail."

"Write a book!"

"Learn to sail, wouldn't that be cool?"

"Hey Kevin!" Arnold sat down next to Kevin, effectively cutting off the conversation. "I brought you breakfast!"

"You too, nerd." Pop Tarts handed Connor some cereal and leaned against him. "Hey, Elder Price. Elder Cunningham was telling me all about you."

"All good things, I hope." Kevin elbowed Arnold. 

"It was, I promise!" Arnold scooted away from Kevin, sticking out his tongue. 

"Don't worry, Elder, he made you sound incredible!" Pop Tarts rushed to assure Kevin, too nervous and excited to realize it was only friendly bickering. "I was actually wondering if-"

Before he could finish his sentence, a horn blew loudly. The four jumped, scrambling to their feet. 

"That's the alarm! We're about to get briefed!" Connor whisper shouted.

"I didn't think it'd be so soon!" Arnold hastily swallowed the last of his bagel. 

"I can't believe this it." Pop Tarts linked arms with Connor. 

"You guys ready?" Kevin squared himself up. 

It was time to make a difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot the reference should be easy this week. Comments and kudos are always appreciated


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swiggity swag Elder McKinley's a fa-
> 
> Homophobic language, some homophobia

Connor had been hoping to stand by Kevin, but the more confident Mormon had already ran to the front of the crowd while Connor was dragged to the back by a more scared Pop Tarts. Although Connor was a little disappointed, there was no way that he would've left the nervous wreck that was Elder Pop Tarts all by himself. Arnold seemed better equipped to deal with Kevin anyways. 

Two by two, the Elders fell silent as they noticed the African villagers filing in. Soon they had formed a crowd of about the same size right next to the Mormons. Unlike with the Mormons, both men and women had been chosen from Uganda this year. Connor didn't get a good look at the crowd before a deep and commanding voice called his attention to the front. 

"Villagers from Kitguli and-" The man addressing the crowds squinted at his notecard. "Sal Tlay Ka Siti, as you know, you have been randomly selected to participate in a tournament to the death. This tournament will commence in three days. In the few days before, you will all receive some training so that you'll be able to survive as long as possible and have a similar skill level as your opponents. My name is Mafala Hatimbi and I will be leading you through the first part of this experience."

As Mafala continued to explain the rules, Connor began to zone out. He looked over the Africans (most were only slightly more threatening than the Mormons, but one extremely ripped and angry looking man intimidated Connor). He surveyed the other Elders. Only Kevin, Pop Tarts, and Elder Schrader looked like they were paying attention. 

"Connor McKinley." Connor snapped back to reality, realizing that his name had been listed off amongst others by Mafala. 

"Chris Thomas." The Mormons stirred in confusion. Most had never heard Pop Tarts's real last name, and only Connor knew his first name. 

"Nabulungi Hatimbi." Mafala paused at that name and looked over the crowd to a small girl in the center of the crowd of Africans. Connor remembered the man's last name was also Hatimbi. He and this girl, Nabulungi, were probably related. 

Mafala continued and Connor started to zone out again, his sights landing on Kevin this time. He didn't have a full view of the other man, but he could see Kevin reacting to the situation well enough. He had been just as confused by "Chris Thomas" as the others, put an arm around Arnold when the smaller Mormon's name was listed, and was literally bouncing with anticipation waiting for his own name to be called. Connor's gaze drifted down from the back of Kevin's head to his backside, soon reaching his-

"Butt Fucking Naked." Connor's eyes snapped back up, wide with shock. Pop Tarts had grabbed his arm in a death grip. The other Mormons gasped collectively, muttering amongst themselves. Kevin and Arnold seemed frozen in place. Elder Church, on the other hand, had to support himself by grabbing Elder Michaels's shoulder so that he wouldn't collapse from laughter. 

Mafala read the last few names, although they didn't register with Connor at all as his mind tried to work out the name "Butt Fucking Naked". This guy's parents must have hated him. Pop Tarts was starting to cut off circulation in Connor's arm and hand. 

"Ouch. Pop Tarts. Pop Tarts." Connor gently shook the Mormon next to him. "Please let go, you're kind of hurting me."

Pop Tarts shook his head, snapping out of his shock. "Gosh, I'm so sorry! I just needed something to grab onto… really tightly." He released Connor's arm, leaving a light bruise. 

"Don't worry, it took me a moment too." Connor grimaced, both at the crude name and pain in his arm. Mafala cleared his throat, glaring out at the crowds. Connor shut up, rubbing his bicep with a wince. 

"Your training starts today. You will follow me to the practice area. Americans, keep your guard up and stick close to the group, otherwise you may be attacked by lions or scorpions before the competition even begins!" The African villagers followed Mafala, their amicable chatter washing over the frightened and scandalized Elders. After a couple moments of silence and stillness, Elder Church followed after Mafala, dragging Elder Michaels with him. 

"E-Elder Church! What are you doing?" Pop Tarts stammered, catching the broader man's wrist. 

"What? I like these guys, and if we stay here, we're going to be eaten by lions or have no experience for when we're put in the ring." Elder Church shook Pop Tarts off. "You guys can stand here all day if you want, but my companion and I actually want to have a chance."

Pop Tarts backed up to stand beside Connor as Elder Church and Michaels chased after the Africans. Kevin watched them go, fear and pride battling on his face. 

"Oh goodness, I think those two are definitely going to live the longest," Elder Davis said, tugging on his tie apprehensively. 

"Yeah, because Elder Church is going to kill us!" Elder Neeley's voice rose. "Is it a sin to feel so intimidated by a fellow Elder?" 

Kevin cut off any excess conversation by walking briskly after Elder Church and Michaels. "They were right. I can't do something incredible if I don't prepare." He paused only to address his companion. "Are you coming, Arnold?"

"Of course! I mean, whatever you want, we'll do, right?" Arnold sprinted over to Kevin. 

Connor looked back at the other Elders, sad and afraid, then at the retreating Kevin and Arnold, confident and excited. It only took a moment for him to make up his mind. 

"Pop Tarts and I are going too," Connor announced, linking arms with Pop Tarts and walking them forward. 

"We are?" Pop Tarts squeaked. "Are you sure?" 

Connor didn't answer until they were out of the others' sight, then abruptly changed their pace from a casual saunter to a flat out charge while explaining himself in gasps of breath. 

"We're all gonna… die anyways, so why… not try to more than survive… and make our families…proud of what we…did in our last moments?" 

"And you can't… bear to be away from… Elder Price for more… than five minutes," Pop Tarts shot back. 

"Shut up!" Connor blushed as they approached Kevin, Arnold, Elder Church, and Elder Michaels. 

"Elder Pop Tarts!" Elder Church smiled and waved at Pop Tarts. "I'm glad you decided to come."

"Yeah, Elder McKinley came too," Pop Tarts said, clearly torn between defending his best friend and accepting the praise and attention. 

"Oh, I didn't even see him. I don't usually pay attention to sinners." Elder Michaels spoke up, glaring at Connor, who flinched and looked away. 

"Hey!" Elder Church shoved Elder Michaels. 

"Hey, d-don't talk about Connor like that!" Pop Tarts snapped, putting on a brace face, despite his obvious fear. 

"If someone has an issue with Elder McKinley, they can take it up with me," declared Kevin. Pop Tarts slid behind Kevin, starstruck and thankful to have someone else fighting on his friend's behalf. 

"And me!" Arnold jumped protectively in front of Connor. Elder Church walked over to stand beside Pop Tarts, leaving Elder Michaels isolated. 

"But, Pop Tarts, James! He has gay thoughts!" Elder Michaels argued. "Elder Price, you know the Book of Mormon best of all! You know what it says!" 

"I think it's okay that he's having gay thoughts, just so long as he never acts on them." Kevin stared down the flustered Michaels. "At least he's brave enough to come here, regardless of what happens in the privacy of his own head."

"And for the record, I had gay thoughts when I was ten. My hetero side won; I'm all better now!" Connor was blushing bright red, but worked to maintain his dignity. 

"Let's go." Arnold grabbed Kevin's arm, pulling him forward. "We don't want to be killed by scorpions." The two took matching long strides to the front of the group. 

Church put an arm around Pop Tarts, directing them to the side of the path. "Elder Chris "Pop Tarts" Thomas, right? I'm Elder James Church. It was so brave of you to stand up for your friend…"

Connor watched his friends bonding, a grin forming on his face. He hastened his steps to catch up to Kevin and Arnold, but before he got halfway, Michaels grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. 

"Don't get any ideas, fag. No matter what Super-Mormon and his sidekick say, you'll never be one of us." He shoved Connor back and ran ahead to James and Pop Tarts. 

Connor stood in place for a full five seconds, tears stinging his eyes. Eventually, he chased after the other Elders, keeping a distance from Michaels, with a forced smile on his face. 

Kevin, Arnold, and James couldn't tell. But Pop Tarts knew. And he knew who was responsible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my fucking god, this is two weeks late! Sorry guys, I've had eventful sundays and forgot to upload. :'(
> 
> I'll try and stick to the schedule from now on, don't worry


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheerleaders are badass and god bless Pop Tarts

"Pop Tarts, please, just drop it." Hands perfectly still, Connor peeled the skin off of two different berries and held them up to the light, examining the insides. "I promise, I'm fine."

"It was Elder Michaels, wasn't it? We all heard what he was saying about you," Pop Tarts persisted, not dropping it. He inched closer to Connor and craned her neck to get a better look at the berries. 

"It's not Elder Michaels." Connor placed the berries on the small table in front of him and picked up a thin stick. 

"You can't lie to me, Connor! I'm your best friend, I can tell when someone has upset you!"

"I'm not lying, Pop Tarts! Mormons don't lie!" Connor stabbed his stick into one of the berries with feeling. "Just, oh my goodness, let this go!" 

"I don't like seeing you hurt, and "turning it off" won't work forever!" Pop Tarts stabbed a berry as well. 

"Oh, please! You do it all the time!" Connor worked his stick into the berry and pulled out a seed. 

"Well-well, yeah, that's true." Pop Tarts removed a seed from his berry in silence. "I'm sorry, Connor, I just want you to be happy. Like, actually happy."

Connor sighed. "I know, buddy. Thanks." He pointed to Pop Tarts's berry. "That one is poisonous." 

"Good job, Elder McKinley." Connor and Pop Tarts jumped at Mafala's voice, both having forgotten that he was overseeing them try to identify edible plants. "You have gotten four out of five right. Elder Thomas, you've gotten three out of five. Both of you are dead." 

"Oh. Should we retake the test?" Pop Tarts asked, disheartened. 

"Nah, you'll be able to hunt and steal as well. You need to go to weapons training now so you can hold your own in a fight for longer than ten seconds." Mafala leaned down to whisper to Connor on his way to some other struggling elders. "Never hide your true self because of other people." 

Connor shook his head, exasperated. "Come on, let's go to weapons." Pop Tarts scurried after Connor and pointed out all the different choices. 

"Knives, swords, spears, bow and arrow, flail, hand-to-hand combat. Personally, I think that hand-to-hand would be the most useful." Pop Tarts started to lead Connor over to that station, then caught sight of James waving at him from the spears. "But spears are way more interesting!" He changed course, dashing over to James.

Connor watched Pop Tarts go with a smile, then headed over to the hand-to-hand area. He'd give his companion a few minutes alone with James. Connor picked up a worn out book and flipped through the discolored pages. It was filled with diagrams and descriptions of various fighting styles and techniques. 

"Elder McKinley!" Startled, Connor dropped the book and turned to see Kevin waving at him. 

"Hey there, Elder Price!" Connor picked up the book, checking to make sure that he hadn't damaged it. Kevin walked over and plucked the book from Connor's hands, proceeding to leaf through the pages. Connor moved a little closer to Kevin to get a look at the styles too. As much as the complicated methods hurt his brain, they'd be mandatory soon. 

Kevin snapped the book shut abruptly. "This is pointless. We can't learn without an actual teacher; this book won't be enough. Besides, we're Mormons! We don't kill people."

"Yeah, but what if we have no choice? What it's self-defense?" Connor didn't bother trying to read the book again, Kevin was right that they couldn't learn this hands-on skill without a teacher. 

"Then we pray for forgiveness. Or find a way out of it, preferably." 

"I guess that's all we can do." Connor looked over at Pop Tarts, who was failing miserably at spear tossing, even with James guiding him. They weren't coming back anytime soon. "Maybe we should practice fighting anyways, though. We won't kill if we can avoid it, but it'd be good to know how to fend someone off, right?" Connor turned back to Kevin. 

"I guess it can't hurt." Kevin looked Connor up and down with a smirk. "Though I may have a slight advantage over you."

Connor glanced down at his clothes. He was still wearing the PINK pajamas. "What, you think these will slow me down?"

"That coat is at least two sizes too big, Elder." Kevin took a fighting stance and Connor matched him. 

"It's a sweater, and if I could do a high kick and pirouette wearing a skirt, I can kick your butt in this." Connor and Kevin started circling each other. "Are you going to attack first or should I?"

"Whoa, when were you doing high kicks in a skirt?" Kevin could barely contain his laughter. "Oh, you go first."

"Cheerleading." Connor brought up his fists. "I could show you some moves."

"I would love to-" Connor's attack was swift, deadly, and fabulous. 

"Side lunge, clasp, diagonal, left clap up, front lunge, overhead clasp, hip rotation, broken T, front punch, bow and arrow, tabletop, kick!" Connor struck fast and without mercy, listing off every move as he pressed forward. Kevin was driven to the ground, beaten faster than an egg. 

"Okay, you were not slowed down. At all." Kevin grabbed Connor's hand and boosted himself up. "But, cheerleading. Explain. I thought you did ballet?"

"I do both. Well, I did both; after high school ended I dropped cheer. Ballet is definitely my passion, though. I can't dance when I'm around Pop Tarts since it reminds him too much of his sister, but I've still got plenty of opportunities to hone my craft." Connor gestured for Kevin to try and attack him. 

"Okay, but how did you go from ballet to cheerleading? And what happened to Pop Tarts's sister?" Without warning, Kevin lunged at Connor, fists flying. 

"Pop Tarts should really be the one to tell you about that when he's ready to." Connor dodged the punches expertly. "As for cheer, my father insisted I take up a sport."

"Cheer isn't a sport!" Kevin's throws got more erratic as he continued to miss, which only made them easier to avoid. 

"Have you ever tried holding a team of teenage girls above you in a pyramid? Or done an extremely physically demanding 50 move routine 6 times in a row?" Connor rolled beneath one of Kevin's reckless hits to come up behind him. "It's more than a sport, Elder Price. Cheer is an art."

"Okay, whatever you say." Kevin spun around and faced his opponent. "Why did you need to wear a skirt though?"

"The team had never had a male member before, but it was either let me join or create an all-male team. No other boys wanted to join, so they had to let me in." Connor administered a high left V to Kevin's chin followed by two dagger to the chest. "They did not have to buy me a different uniform, however. The school was probably hoping that the concept of wearing a skirt would scare me away. Not this Mormon!" 

"That must have taken some confidence." Kevin swung one last, desperate time, but was cut down by a fair and clean roundhouse kick, touchdown, and shove. 

"My father yelled, my mother cried, but it was all worth it. I had so much fun!" Connor helped Kevin up again. "And I guess it all paid off, huh?"

"You are pretty flexible." Kevin tried for a sneak attack, his aim trained on Connor's neck. 

"You are pretty awful." Connor easily blocked the punch. "I'll have to protect the whole group, won't I?"

"The whole group?" Kevin's inquisitive tone caused Connor to remember an important detail. He had not actually discussed teaming up with any of his friends. 

"Well, I was hoping that some of us could team up and try to, you know, protect each other. You, me, Elder Cunningham, Pop Tarts, and it looks like Pop Tarts is friends with Elder Church now, so him too." Connor looked down, embarrassed. 

"That's actually a really smart idea, Elder McKinley!" Kevin scoured the scene for his best friend. "I think Arnold is talking to one of the Africans; what about her?"

"Add her to the list." Connor waved over James and Pop Tarts while Kevin signaled Arnold and the African woman. "There's just enough room in our teeny tiny band for one more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm seeing bom this Thursday and I'm fuckin psyched y'all


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arnold and my fav ensemble member

Arnold had never been the most popular kid in high school. But, watching Connor kicking Kevin's ass with a mixture of ballet and cheer, he thanked Heavenly Father that he had not been Connor. Being ignored and called a freak occasionally beat being actively bullied in Arnold's book, and he just knew that being the only male cheerleader and ballerina had to have been an invitation for getting tossed in a dumpster.

That's not to say that it want amazing, of course. Arnold was enthralled. Pop Tarts looked proud of his best friend, and James seemed almost guilty, trying not to look at Connor. Nabulungi, on the other hand, was not impressed.

"You have strong muscles and are flexible, but your form is all wrong." Nabulungi stepped up next to Connor, leaving Kevin to move out of the way while she assessed the other man's skill. "Unless you are fighting one of the other weak ass white boys, your hip swaying will be useless against an enemy."

Kevin looked a little offended by that, but Arnold had to admit it was true. Connor was the only Mormon who was in fighting condition.

"Okay, so thumbs out of the fist, aim for throat or chest, and either kick low or roundhouse," Connor muttered the starting advice Nabulungi had lent him under his breath. "Let's go, Nabulungi."

Connor started strong, his foot striking Nabulungi's inner knee and knocking her off her feet. Unanticipated, however, was her slide beneath Connor's legs to come u behind him. Before he could turn around, she pushed him to the ground, hard. Connor fell on his chest and Nabulungi sat on his back, her legs pinning his down, one hand grasping his hair and the other holding the back of his neck. If she put applied pressure on his neck or pulled his head back, his neck would snap.

"Whoo! Go Nanobyte! That was brilliant!" Arnold cheered, clapping his hands. Kevin, Pop Tarts, and James all joined in, unsure at first, but with increased fervor when Connor sat up, unharmed.

"Nabulungi." Nabulungi pulled Connor up to his feet and offered some hushed advice to him. He nodded and took a stance across from her.

However, this fight was over just as fast, if not even quicker, than the first one. Connor ducked the punch Nabulungi hurled, which gave her the distraction she needed to knee him in the crotch. He doubled over in pain and she pushed him to the ground, foot on his throat.

“Are all of you Mormons this useless?” Nabulungi snorted. Connor accepted her outstretched hand to pull himself back up.

“Believe it or not, the others are even worse.” Connor told her with a laugh. His eyes scanned over Arnold and the others while he assessed their skill sets. “Elder Church could probably do some damage with a weapon, Pop Tarts might be good with a bow and arrow or slingshot, Elder Price and Elder Cunningham,” he paused here, being careful to select his words with precision. “are not the greatest fighters.”

Arnold felt obliged to defend himself, but he knew that Connor was right about both him and Kevin. Besides, it was probably best to play it raw when they were all going to be fighting for their lives.

“I have enough on my hands training Elder McKinley.” Nabulungi stalked through the thin group. “Which means the rest of you need to find other ways to help our band. Elder Pop Tarts, you learn how to shoot. Elder Church, you find out which plants we can eat. Elder Price, you go with building shelters and fires. Elder Cunningham, uh, just do some of everything, okay?”

James, Pop Tarts, and Kevin chirped their agreement and set off to the separate stations with fervor and excitement. Arnold was a little less thrilled with his assignment, but he couldn't just ruin everyone's mood.

Jack of trades! he reminded himself. The others are all gonna need someone they can rely on as a sidekick, and there you'll be, not incredible at their thing but good enough to help! Because really, who doesn't want to help people?

“Thanks, Nyquil!” Arnold waved goodbye to Nabulungi and Connor and wheeled around to survey the open field. So many choices, what to do?

A glint of metal caught his eye. The knives station, occupied only by a Ugandan woman dressed in yellow. Arnold reasoned that he should get some experience in before everyone came over; knives were very classy. All the others would certainly come flocking over soon, and unless he pounced on this golden opportunity, Arnold would not get a chance to practice his dagger throwing at all.

“Hey!” Arnold waved hello to the woman in yellow as he stepped up to the table and carefully picked up a knife. “I'm Elder Arnold Cunningham.”

“Kalimba Magezi.” She raised an eyebrow and looked Arnold up and down. “What are you doing with the weapons? I thought you Mormons didn't like fighting.”

“Oh, we don't!” Arnold assured her. “But I'm in a group with a few others, and I want to contribute to the team!”

“Contribute?” Kalimba asked, and Arnold remembered that English was not any of these villagers’ first language.

“Help out,” Arnold clarified with a smile. “See, Elder Church, Elder Pop Tarts, Elder McKinley, Kevin, and Nebraska are all gonna try and protect each other!”

“You mean Nabulungi?” Kalimba grinned and tossed her knife at a small, torn up target. She hit a perfect bullseye.

“Right, her. You wouldn't happen to want to join us, would you?” Arnold walked over to the target and pried the knife out, then took his shot at throwing. “We could really use you.” Arnold was not as lucky, his dagger barely even hitting the target.

“No thanks.” Kalimba pulled the dagger out and stepped back until she was a solid three yards away before she hurled it. “Six people is already pushing it; I'm not about to get killed because I’m with that many fucking people.” Not a perfect bullseye this time, but about as close as it gets. “I'm already pairing up with my girlfriend Kimbay, anyways.”

“Don't worry, I totally get staying with your best friend.” Arnold took his turn at throwing the knife. “I'd stick with Kev-“

“No no, my _girlfriend_ ,” Kalimba emphasized. “I am in love with her.”

“Oh. Oh!” Arnold blushed. “Gosh, I'm sorry, I guess I just, I mean, uh…” Arnold could feel Kalimba judging him as he stammered. “I've just never met a lesbian before.”

“You probably have, you just didn't know it since you're so bad at noticing.” Kalimba shook her head, exasperated. “Kimbay likes boys and girls, so only one of us is a lesbian.”

“Just to be clear, I'm totally fine with two girls dating!” Arnold handed the knife over to Kalimba, who stepped back another yard. “I told Elder McKinley I'd be okay with it if he was gay, and I meant it, so it's not any different for you. This is all just pretty new for me, Salt Lake City is super straight.”

Kalimba watched Arnold walk to the board and retrieve the knife, then went over to stand behind him. “Here, I'll show you how to actually throw.”

“Thanks, Kalimba.”

After that, neither said a word, but this time the silence was comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG I SAW THE BOM TOUR AND IT WAS SO FUCKING INCREDIBLE THEY WERE ALL SO TALENTED AND AMAZING


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me forgetting that Elder Church is from Cheyenne, Wyoming? It's more likely than you think. (Don't worry, I'll provide an explanation in later chapters)  
> Warning: some homophobia/homophobic language

James was not sure how he had gotten roped into this. Setting out, he had intended to survive as long as he could by praying for guidance and maybe teaming up with his friend Greg Michaels. Instead, James was part of the group that actively avoided Greg. James wasn't sure why. Sure, Greg was a little bigoted, but nobody's perfect. 

“What, are you serious? Elder Michaels called Connor a you-know-what! That's not really loving thy neighbor, is it?” Pop Tarts was unsympathetic to James’s distress. “He's mean, Elder.”

“He's dedicated.” James followed Pop Tarts as he moved positions around the target he was aiming for. “Besides, we've all said fa- uh, that word.”

“I haven't.”

“Yeah, well, you are friends with the only person in Utah who has even remotely considered anything not straight.” James separated berries on the tree stump next to Pop Tarts. “And even you had to have acted a little homophobic in high school.”

“No, I just stuck to myself and left other people alone.” Pop Tarts released the arrow. It barely hit the target. “I understand that Elder Michaels is your friend, but he's not a good person.”

“None of us are!” James tried to continue his rant, but Pop Tarts had walked away. James looked over at his attentive figure near a different target and shook his head. Maybe the blonde foodie was right. Intolerance shouldn't have exceptions. 

But looking at Greg by the camouflage area, chatting with one of the Ugandans, James couldn't bring himself to think that his companion could possibly be a bad person. People had to be more complicated than pure good and evil. A little homophobia or misogyny didn't make him bad or not worth being friends with, right?

Greg noticed James watching and waved him over. James carefully picked up a few berries and walked over to Greg and the Ugandan woman he was talking to.

“Hey James!” Greg looked down at the berries in his palm. “Ooh, good plan. I haven't even started to think about food.”

The African woman cleared her throat and nodded at James. “Kimbay Gahakwa.”

“Elder James Church, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.” James smiled at her. “I love saying my full title, because then I say church twice in a row. Isn't English weird?”

“Oh, it's fucking weird all right.” Kimbay smirked and began strategically placing leaves on herself. 

“So where have you been? I was hoping to coordinate with you,” Greg said while he helped Kimbay apply her leaves. “You know we'd be a power team.”

“Gosh, Greg, I'm not quite sure how to say this, but…” James faltered under the steely glare Greg sent him, reminded of his dad, but forged ahead. “I was invited to join a group already.”

“Oh yeah? With whom?” Greg put down his leaf. Kimbay stuck leaves on herself a little slower, engaged in the drama.

“With Elder Price, Elder Cunningham, a girl named Nabulungi, Elder Poptarts, and, um, Elder McKinley.”

“Nabulungi is pairing up with you? She should be kicking your asses with Ghali.” Kimbay moved on to sticks. 

“Wait wait wait, Elder McKinley? The queer?” Greg stared at James incredulously. “I mean, I knew you didn't actively hate him, but you actually chose that faggot over me? I thought we had an agreement!”

James spluttered for a valid reason as to why he abandoned his best friend for a misfit band of people he barely knew, but before he could come up with anything, the tree next to him stood in righteous anger. It was actually Kimbay. She was a master of camouflage. 

“It's no fucking surprise that Church chose this group over you. For one, Nabulungi is in it, and she's a fucking badass. She's probably training these idiot white boys in how to survive out here, while you can't even put a leaf on me right. If you hate these people because a gay boy is one of them, you're gonna be one of the first to die. If this gay doesn't kill you, my lesbian girlfriend and I will. Or you'll die on your own because you're fucking stupid and have no skills for outside.”

James gazed at her in shock, while Greg’s expression was more disgusted and horrified. Kimbay’s face was hidden by her expert camouflage, but the passion in her voice when she was ranting was more than enough to glean her emotions. 

“There was not one good point in your argument,” Greg said, though his voice shook. “And I cannot believe that even here there are still sinners like Elder McKinley. Like you.”

“And my lesbian girlfriend,” Kimbay reminded him cheerily. “Let me spell out the points for you- one, Church’s new group has ten times the chance of living that you and he would have. Two, if you'd die before playing nice with a gay boy, you won't last long. Three, you're a fucking idiot and can't survive outdoors without someone holding your hand. Someone who's a girl, of course.” 

“I-I, whatever. James, you can join me or not, but I'm not gonna deal with this. Are you coming with me, or sticking with these homos?” Greg stood up and knocked three bundles of sticks over while he stormed away. “What'll it be?”

James stayed seated and shrugged helplessly up at him. “Hate the sin, love the sinner?”

“You're lucky Heavenly Father doesn't condemn people for affiliating with homosexuals, only for practicing it.” Greg left in a huff, his parting words lingering. 

“I'm sorry about that.” James told the nearest tree. “He's not that bad, I promise.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re almost as bad as he is.” Kimbay’s voice came from a tree three yards to James’s right. “Now either camouflage yourself or get out.”

James got out. 

***

“Hey, Elder Church!” Connor smiled at James as the brunette approached him and Nabulungi. “How'd the plants go?”

“Amazing, I think I'm really good at figuring out what's edible! I also, uh, talked with Greg.” James sat down. Nabulungi and Connor took their seats beside him too. 

“Elder Michaels?” Connor visibly swallowed, his nervousness evident. “What'd you say?” 

“Wait, who is Greg?” Nabulungi asked. 

“Elder Greg Michaels, one of my best friends,” James told her. “He's a little bigoted, but not a bad person.”

“He called me a fag,” Connor pitched in. 

“Everyone's called you that!” James snapped. Connor winced a little, though he seemed unsurprised. Nabulungi was unfazed, her expression stone-like. 

“But speaking of that, one of the villagers here, Kimbay, told Greg off when he started insulting you because you're gay.” James brought his voice down a little. 

“I'm not gay!” Connor threw his hands into the air. “It was one time! Nine years ago! Elder Michaels didn't even know me back then!” 

“We were pen pals and I may have told him all about the Steve Blade scandal,” James admitted. “Elder Price and Elder Cunningham were probably the only ones who didn't know before we got here.”

“It's no wonder Kimbay snapped at him. She and Kalimba are already hated by the General and his guards. They were hoping that the Americans would be more openminded.” Nabulungi wisely cut off Connor from responding to James's revelation. 

“There are lesbians here?” Connor asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Kimbay likes girls and boys, and Kalimba only likes girls.” Nabulungi’s eyes lit up while she told James and Connor about her friends, affection painting her features. 

“ANYWAYS, Kimbay roasted Greg, and she was right. It's not okay to hate someone for who they are, so I need to apologize.” James plowed forward with his story. He tried to maintain eye contact with Connor, though he wanted to look away when realization dawned in the other’s face. “I'm sorry about high school.”

“What happened in high school?” Nabulungi was wide eyed and looked fully invested in the drama. 

“Remember how I said I did ballet and cheer and that some people bullied me because of that? Elder Church was one of those people.” Connor didn't look at Nabulungi as he told her this. His gaze was fixed on James. “Not to mention the Steve Blade debacle.”

“Steve Blade?”

“I thought I had a crush on him.” That was all the explanation Connor offered of that. 

“Connor, it was really wrong of me to make fun of you, you didn't deserve any of that,” James said in a rush. “I shouldn't have called you names, or said Heavenly Father hates you, or let the non-Mormon kids physically touch you.” 

“It's okay, Elder.” Connor squeezed Nabulungi’s hand, which she had slipped into his for support. “You thought you were doing the right thing for the church.”

“Yeah, exactly! I have nothing against you or gays, I just wanted to make Heavenly Father proud of me and I thought that was how.” James gave Connor a relieved smile. “Thanks for understanding.”

“Yes, of course. No problem.” Connor looked down. Nabulungi patted his shoulder. 

“I'm sorry Elder, but could you leave now? Elder McKinley and I need to practice.” Nabulungi smiled at James. “It's better if we do it alone.”

“Yeah, sure! Thanks for listening to me.” James headed back to the edible plants section with a spring in his step. Greg was wrong, James would definitely survive longer with such an understanding and fantastic leader, even if that leader was gay. Or used to be gay. No matter what Connor chose to label himself as, he would lead the group to glory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School starts soon, so updates may be a tad slower. I'll try to keep it constant!
> 
> Comments and kudos motivate me lots


	9. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nabulungi gets her time to shine

“Well, he's a dick,” Nabulungi commented as she watched James walk away.

Connor sighed and rested his head on his knees. Nabulungi softened her tone and stroked his hair. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I don't even get why I'm so upset; he's apologizing, right?” Connor let Nabulungi play with his hair.

“He's trying to excuse what he did. But even if he thought he was doing something good, it wasn't right and he shouldn't act like it was okay.” Nabulungi started to French braid Connor’s fringe.

“It was a while ago, and he wasn't even close to the worst one.” Connor, lost in thought, hadn't seemed to register Nabulungi’s actions. “I have to let this go.”

“How old were you?”

“You know, high school age. Started when we were fourteen and ended when we were eighteen.”

“And how old are you now?” Nabulungi tied the braid with some grass.

“Nineteen,” Connor admitted.

“It hasn't even been a year, that's not a while ago!” Nabulungi sat back, incredulous. “It is good that he realized he was wrong so soon, but the wounds are still fresh, Elder.”

“I know, and I'm still a little upset, but isn't it better to forgive and forget? He feels bad about it now.” Connor reached up to touch his braid. “Oh wow, this is really good, Nabulungi.”

“Thank you.” Nabulungi smiled and took Connor’s hand. “Forgive him, but do not forget. You cannot let anyone make you feel bad about yourself.”

“It's okay. He didn't mean it, and anyways, I don't feel anything about that anymore.” Connor assured Nabulungi, a huge smile plastered onto his face. “I'm just glad that we all have learned from this.”

“If you are sure.” Nabulungi examined Connor, unconvinced, but decided not to push him. “How about some more practice?” She stood up and offered him her hand.

“Absolutely!” Connor grasped Nabulungi’s wrist and allowed her to boost him up.

“Training time is over!” Mafala announced from across the field. “We are heading back now; do not get left behind.”

“Oh.” Nabulungi patted Connor's shoulder. “Well, there's always tomorrow. Try not to let this whole James thing get to you.”

“I won't, don't worry!” Connor leaned down a little to hug Nabulungi. “Thanks for helping me!”

Nabulungi waved goodbye to Connor, and James, Kevin, and Pop Tarts all paused to bid her farewell.

“See you tomorrow, Nashville!” Nabulungi sighed at the mispronunciation, but still smiled as Arnold said goodbye. He was trying, or at least she thought he was.

Nabulungi hurried to catch up to the other villagers; she found herself walking alongside Ghali. Nearby, Kimbay was gossiping with Kalimba. Gotswana and Maia fell in line next to Ghali and Nabulungi. Everyone was sure to give Butt Fucking Naked a wide berth, not that he seemed to mind.

“I saw you hanging around with the Americans.” Goalie nudged Nabulungi. “What's that all about?”

“I think I'm gonna make a team with some of them,” Nabulungi said.

Maia, Gotswana, and Ghali burst into laughter. Kalimba rolled her eyes and pulled Kalimba farther away.

“I'm serious! I really think we could do great together.” Nabulungi crossed her arms and glared.

“Nabulungi, have you seen those white boys?” Maia asked through her giggles. “I was standing next to one of them while tying knots. He couldn't even manage a square knot!”

“These ones are different,” Nabulungi insisted. “I know most of them are useless, but I know that these five can make it.”

“Five of them?” Nabulungi jumped at the sound of Mutumbo’s voice. How he managed to sneak up on anyone was beyond her. “That's way too many.”

“This is gonna fucking get you killed.” Gotswana adopted the same disappointed face as Ghali, Maia, and Mutumbo.

“Says the ones who don't even have a team! Kalimba and Kimbay are gonna kill you all in your sleep, but at least one person from my team will escape!”

Mutumbo, Ghali, Maia, and Gotswana looked over to Kimbay and Kalimba, who were muttering to each other and sending them sidelong glances. Nabulungi was pretty sure they were discussing the Mormons, but she was more than happy to let the others believe that they were plotting murder tactics.

“Believe what you want,” Ghali said at last. “Don't blame us when your little group gets you killed.” He and the others moved to the front of the small procession. Nabulungi was left with Kalimba and Kimbay. Neither seemed thrilled to be beside her.

“I can't believe you're teaming up with them,” Kimbay said, annoyance glinting in her eyes.

“Not you too!” Nabulungi groaned. “I would've thought you guys at least would understand.”

“I've heard what those boys had to say about Kalimba and me. You shouldn't be anywhere near that shit type of people.” Kimbay set her jaw.

“Baby, wait.” Kalimba squeezed her girlfriend’s shoulder. “I talked to one of them, and he seemed very supportive of us. I think his name was Elder Cunningham.”

“So there's one good one. That doesn't excuse the others,” Kimbay said, her angry gaze stubborn.

“It's just one, and he apologized.” Nabulungi met Kimbay’s scowl evenly. “Almost all of them are good people. I made the right choice, Kimbay.”

Kalimba coughed into her hand. Nabulungi spun on her heel to stare at her. “Do you have something to say?”

“I don't have anything against the Elders, but six people, including you? That's too much,” Kalimba said, her eyes sympathetic. “This might be more than you can handle.”

“I know I'm gonna make it, and those guys are gonna help.” Nabulungi turned her back on the two. “And you-“

“We're here.” Kimbay cut her off and grabbed Kalimba’s hand. “See you in hell.”

Nabulungi watched them go, fuming. She hated not having the last word. Once they disappeared from her line of vision, however, she let her shoulders slump.

_Who am I kidding? This won't fucking work._

“Nabulungi! There you are!” Nabulungi breathed a sigh of relief at her father’s voice. “How was your first day of training?”

“I think it was okay.” Nabulungi hugged Mafala tightly. “I'm on a team with some of the white boys now.”

“Really? Which ones?”

“Elder Cunningham, Elder Price, Elder Church, Elder McKinley, and Elder Pop Tarts.” Nabulungi watched Mafala’s face carefully while she relayed the news.

“That's wonderful, but isn't that too many?” Nabulungi could tell how concerned he was for her, but couldn't help but feel irritated by his reaction.

“It is not too many! We all help each other, and we'll be able to spread out while hunting, or surround someone, or-or something like that!” Nabulungi said. Her pulse was rushing.

“I just want you to be safe. If you think this is what’s best, I'm sure you're right.” Mafala put his hand on her forehead and frowned. “Your face is flushing. This is a bad time to get sick.”

“It's just stress, Baba. I need sleep and then I'll be alright.” Nabulungi removed his hand from her head and held it, her thumb stroking reassuring circles.

“Let's head back home then.” Mafala let go of Nabulungi’s hand. “You're probably tired.”

Nabulungi began to walk towards their hut, Mafala a few steps behind her. She felt her consciousness slipping away as she entered. Mafala closed the door behind her and headed over to his bed. Nabulungi clambered into her own, eyelids already closing.

“Goodnight, Baba.”

“Goodnight, Naba. Your mama would be proud of you.”

Nabulungi feel asleep with a smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep having to look up words starting with N for Arnold's nicknames for Naba. Hey, nickname starts with an N!


End file.
